The army of forty-nine moved with careful haste, each hurried step met with a nervous glance put into the sides. Though they didn't exactly grasp what sort of danger they were in, they still obeyed the Nobles' words without hesitation.
Their minds were not clear - collectively, a strange sort of brain fog had started to haunt the men, Paper included.
Paper himself started to feel suffocated in the tense atmosphere. The concern of the Noble peeled off of her in waves, her demeanour shifting from that of a confident commander to someone desperately trying to maintain their confidence.
'...what's wrong with her?'
"Hey. Calm down, and breathe. We'll be fine, I'm sure." He remarked as snidely as he could fake it before walling ahead. "See?"
Another flash of steel and a scream.
"Simple. We only have forty-"
And another.
"Seven men to lead."
"... You're right. I only have forty-seven men to lead." She responded with a despondent sigh. "You know, it's stressful." She started to speak, and Paper couldn't help but lean in to listen.
"What's stressful?"
It would he a perfect opportunity to learn more about the Noble he had to kill.
"....just... this. This whole... fiasco." She waved her hands slightly in front of her, as if trying to encompass the situation with her palms. It was a rather cute act from someone wearing armor that would cause even a knight envy.
"Hm? What about it?" He grinned. "It's relatively clear cut to me, so, perhaps I can help you, friend."
'Help you dig a grave for yourself.'
The plan was simple. Get her to trust him, then kill her. It was straightforward and efficient. Sure, he'd feel a little bad, but the world was a place where you either killed to get somewhere or get killed because you were in the way.
"You see... we had fifty men. But three vanished. Yet we're all either tense or calm, and we don't see their bodies."
...what could she be possibly on about?
"What? No. We only have forty-seven."
"Fifty."
"Forty-seven."
"Fifty."
He paused, looking at her, really looking at her through the visor of the helmet, which admittedly hid all of her features before going into a contemplative walk. When... time was going backwards... there were fifty soldiers, right? So, how are they at forty-seven?
"...Maybe there really were Fifty soldiers."
He agreed, ending the back and forth.
"See? But for some reason... it feels like we never had fifty... maybe... maybe we're under attack by an entity that can manipulate minds... but that wouldn't make sense? That would surely be a Spirit of the Cruel rank..."
While she had a point to him, there was zero circumstantial evidence to use.
A Cruel Spirit on the first Orb was not just at all, and the people loved to parade the Orb as a natural disaster equal to all. The trials were never meant to be beyond a Dormant Predator from what he had heard, but apparently they were hunting a rank above hunter, a marauder, and now she was claiming that it could even be a spirit, which was another rank above a marauder.
Now that, to Paper, was just improbable.
The men were all there, too. There were no corpses, at least obviously, with no blood or anything of the sort visible to them. And most certainly, there were zero hints that they were being followed or that anything was happening at all.
For all he knew, it could just be a Noble's ramblings.
"... Aster." She spoke, yet the weight of his name suddenly felt grave, dire. Her tone was that of someone about to entrust far too much into his incapable hands.
"Erm... yeah?"
She was definitely going to ask him something annoying, wasn't she? Like, 'watch my back, I'm heading in'.
He desperately hoped against hope she wouldn't. Instead, she lifted a hand, signalling to the army of forty-seven.
"Prepare to bunker down here. Take rest. We have marched for an hour, and we are resting earlier, but that is because three members of our cohort have vanished."
A wave of unsettled and confused murmurs travelled through the men, while Paper was admittedly still looking at her expectantly, blinking.
'....? Was she not going to finish her request?'
"You."
His ears perked up as he looked at her with as much irritance as he could.
"Guard me while I do this. It is necessary."
She then crossed her legs, her armor vanishing as she revealed herself in... relatively mundane clothing? A blue sweat shirt, and what seemed to be elastic black shorts. Her skin was fairer than the last time he saw her, yet her eyes were glowing with an abnormal radiance. She put her elegant longsword onto her lap, starting to meditate.
His jaw dropped at her utter nonchalance of her act. Really? Three man vanished, and her concern is to meditate? What could she possibly get from this? Why was she even meditating?
"...are you crazy!?"
"I am serving as the bait. Outputting energy to attract beasts to me specifically. Don't talk to me unless you yourself are in danger. Otherwise, protect me."
For a noble, you'd expect a plan of significant sofistication on the spot - a battle formation that was usable, perhaps, or a Starbound gift that would protect their minds from the current supposed danger. But this?
This was as primitive as Paper's jump down into her Orb based on a gamble and pure instinct.
'...this crazy woman.'
"You've lost your damn mind."
Slowly... a web of gold started to pulse under her skin. It was thin, almost invisible to the eye, but he noticed it. It was quite the interesting sight, seeing her veins and arteries start to glow, as faint as it was. It added to her allure, strangely, to which he quickly raised an eyebrow at himself before turning away.
As soon as he did, though, the feeling returned. The feeling of haziness. But it was significantly tampered down within her aura.
As the men set up for a short rest, lying down on trees which reached into the skies like cruel, grasping hands, their leaves almost crinkling like gold wrapping as their barks turned brown to black, Paper found himself to be the last one standing up.
And he was completely lost.
What was it? Something felt off. Terribly so. The disappearances now finally weighed on his mind, like a mortifying reality dragging down any form of sanity he had left.
'Great. It's simply great. This is a nightmare.'
He found himself scoffing, glaring at the gorgeous noble women. He was overwhelmed by the urge to stab her... to rid her off of whatever life she found so valuable that allowed her to sit in comfort amidst a field of men who were anxiously rechecking their surroundings.
Her eyes opened halfway, glowing with ethereal power.
"...There is a beast approaching. A small hound. In fact, many approach. I say... nineteen dormant beasts."
Her words were odious, in their predicament. Despite this, she kept meditating, only giving him a look so powerful he felt compelled to obey.
"Command them."
Over his spear, a thin overlay of raw power coated it, and it felt like it was threatening to explode with power. Around him, the men stammered in surprise as their weapons were also coated with this sheen of golden, otherworldly light.
The message was clear.
Within his field of vision, ever so obscured by the rows of rows of trees and shrubbery, he couldn't see the supposed approaching beasts. But within the range of his hearing, he could hear it. Wildly, from all sides, they were being surrounded.
With nothing but forty-seven men to lead, Paper made the quick choice.
He knew all of them - at least visually, and all of them seemed to have armors and weapons suitable for different sort of defences.
Not just that, but there was a spread between four weapons within the group. Rakes, Spears, Swords, and Shovels, with a few sickles as side arms. He nodded to one of the men and signalled at the sickle, to which was tossed to him promptly.
He inhaled deeply, before screaming.
"Create groups and circle around the Noble!"
'...Yep. That's the best I came up with.'
They all looked at him with confusion before obeying, and he felt the Noble raise her eyebrow at him, unimpressed as he shrugged at her, a confused look on his face.
She had asked Paper of all people, a street rat, to command an army. Would she have known? No. But Paper certainly didn't know how to either, and with his apparent confusion, Morale would be falling far too low.
"He is correct. Groups of four. Have those with rakes at the front line, and have them adopt a spear man's stance. Make sure they are prepared to push back against the wave to buy time. Spears, stay behind the rakes, and take opportunities. Swords, find a way to have yourself be in the midpoint between a group of rakes and spears. Shovels, stick with swords and remain plastered to their back, to defend from incoming strikes. Stragglers, stick within the inner circle."
She had only spoken with a soft rumble under her almost traceless voice, but the men obeyed immediately and without hesitation, unwavering devotion towards her.
Despite this, only Paper noticed how she worried her lip between her teeth, how her eye twitched, and how her eyes avoided the surface and looked to the ground. Just before he turned his head to face the oncoming onslaught of beasts, he heard her whisper to him.
"May Chroma have mercy on our souls."